


Falling Fast

by Redisaid



Series: Falling [3]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, Warcraft III, World of Warcraft
Genre: Cultural Differences, F/F, First Time Together, Fluff, Lots of firsts honestly, Oh yeah here's the smut, Pre-Third War, Secret Relationship, Stream of Consciousness, Useless Lesbians, You knew I would get there, beginning a relationship, just throwing more Jaina headcanons in here because why the fuck not, sometimes you build a love nest in a cottage guarded by a water elemental and it's no big deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 23:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redisaid/pseuds/Redisaid
Summary: A continuation of the Falling series. With no adventure to distract them this time, newly inducted into the Kirin Tor Jaina and Ranger General Sylvanas get to work on the feelings that have been secretly building between them.





	Falling Fast

**Author's Note:**

> I'm done with adventure fics. Let's dive into that soft gay, shall we?

This was becoming a bit of a routine. Maybe too much so. Jaina worried sometimes if her peers and mentors alike were beginning to notice, but most of the time, they were so wrapped up in their own work that it would have been impossible for them to see the little signs. They never commented that she kept to high collared robes, even though her status as a full member of the Kirin Tor allowed her to wear whatever she pleased. They didn’t seem to notice that, even though she was still living in her old room in the Citadel, she was buying a lot of kitchen utensils and housewares lately. They didn't really care that she spent at least one afternoon a week somewhere else, or even where that was.

No, they were too busy with their own lives. 

And Jaina was busy trying not to be disappointed.

Because that was a part of the routine too. Just as she did every time she could get a few hours away, she would head to her room, citing some bullshit reason like wanting to study in silence or needing to work on a personal project. She would shed those dreadful robes and put on more practical clothes--this time a blue peasant skirt and a simple white blouse. She would stare at the golden pendant on her chest for a moment, and then activate the teleportation charm she kept next to it on the same chain.

She would arrive outside the cottage, always finding some little thing about it had changed. This time, there was a new door made of fresh timber. Before that, window boxes filled with budding wildflowers had been added. And before that, the roof had been patched and shorn up. 

She would feel hope overwhelm her, flooding warmth into her chest, spreading over her not unlike the first hints of summer sun that that peeked into this little valley. She would walk up to the cottage, open the door, and find it empty, save for a note. 

And that was why disappointment was always a part of this routine. It was no different today.

Jaina sighed, setting the bag she was carrying down on the little table she’d salvaged from one of the other houses in the ruined village. It was missing a leg, but steady enough on the three it had left. Two mismatched chairs complimented it, although they were never filled at the same time. She unpacked this week’s contribution to the cabin--a small bag of apples with a smooth wooden bowl to hold them, a wheel of sharp white cheese she stashed next to the apples, proper tea cups and a real kettle, and a light patchwork quilt for the bed. She didn’t bother to read the note yet.

As she went to deposit the last item, she couldn’t help but smile at the little signs of recent habitation around her--a fresh stack of split logs by the fireplace, bundles of herbs hung to dry from the rafters, and a book in the middle of the bed. Wait, that wasn’t normal.

She picked it up as she set the quilt down. The title was spelled out in Thalassian, in words she wasn’t yet familiar with. She tried sounding them out to deduce some meaning from their basic roots, but that didn’t reveal anything to her. Was it a name, then, or some other proper noun she hadn’t yet encountered in her studies? This was always a problem when she went to try to read books in the language. They constantly eluded to the thousands of years of elven history and culture, to people and places and things that one had little hope of knowing if one wasn’t also an elf. Just like the rest of them, even their books were haughty and exclusive.

Well, like most of them. Not all of them.

“You’ve almost got it,” came a voice from the doorway, “but the last character is ‘dorah’, not ‘doran’.”

Jaina almost dropped the book. She looked up to find Sylvanas smirking at her. She had a hatchet slung over one shoulder and a bundle of kindling stashed under her other arm. Gone was her uniform, her shining armor. She was clad only in a simple button up shirt--embroidered with a delicate pattern in gilded thread, of course, because even the most simple of elven clothes were pieces of art--and trousers made of a soft-looking doeskin, with matching boots. Oh yes, and with just one new piece of jewelry, a little scrap of wood, glowing with purple runes, hanging from her neck on a silver chain.

“You’re...you’re here,” Jaina eventually said. 

“Didn’t you read my note?” Sylvanas asked with one of her little laughs. She set the wood and hatchet down and leaned on the doorframe.

Jaina did drop the book then. She all but ran the few feet to the doorway, but stopped just short of Sylvanas.

She didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t seen her since accepting her token. They had never talked about any of this. They'd only spoken in short notes lamenting that they had missed the other at the cottage again. She wasn’t even sure that Sylvanas was at all attracted to her, or available, or willing, until she’d sent her that pendant. 

She knew what she wanted to do, of course, but was that the right thing to do?

So instead, Jaina watched Sylvanas’ eyes drift down to the golden feather that she’d worn for these last few weeks, stashed secretly under high collars. She watched a grin spread over her sharp and elegant features.

And she decided then that, yes, it was a very good idea to kiss her.

As first kisses go, it wasn’t the most awkward she’d experienced. It wasn’t the least awkward either. Jaina just about crashed into her, clicking their teeth together briefly, but after that, it was wonderful. Warm and soft and welcoming. Sylvanas smelled like the forest, like pine sap and wet leaves and clean air. And gods was she gentle. Even as her hand came around her waist to pull Jaina in closer, her touch was so soft and cautious. 

As she pulled away, Jaina was rewarded with that grin again. 

“Yes,” Sylvanas told her, hands moving up to the small of her back and pulling her in even closer. “I’m here.”

Their second kiss was even better. Their third was certainly a highlight. Their fourth, though, was exquisite in every way. Jaina lost count as Sylvanas started casually throwing them in with bits of conversation. She snuck one in on her way back from putting the wood and hatchet away next to the hearth. She leaned over the bowl of apples, kissing Jaina again before she snatched an apple up and took a bite. The next few kisses tasted of fruit as Sylvanas told her about all the happenings in Silvermoon that kept her away.

And just like that, apprehension slipped away. They could still have their natural ease of conversation, the calm of the other’s presence. Instead of taking something away, they were just adding to it--adding something that felt like it had always belonged. 

Jaina eyed the note on the table as they talked.

_All yours for two days. I’m taking some leave and going “hunting”. Here’s to hoping I can hunt myself a mage again._

_\- S_

And then tried her best to listen as she contemplated whether or not she would be missed if she spent the next two days here. Jaina eventually concluded she didn’t care. 

She leaned across the table herself, stopping Sylvanas mid-sentence with another kiss. 

“And here I wasn’t sure you would accept,” Sylvanas said with a laugh after Jaina pulled away.

“I still don’t know what exactly I’ve accepted, but if means we can keep doing this, then it doesn’t really matter to me,” Jaina told her.

Sylvanas’ smile was something new and incredibly tender. She slid a hand up Jaina’s neck, which seemed to trail sparks behind it before it made its way up to cup her cheek. “And that’s exactly why I gave it to you,” she told her. “But to make it simple, it just means I’d very much like to get to know you better, and to keep kissing you, if you’ll allow it.”

Jaina leaned into her touch. “I’ll do more than allow it. I’m encouraging it.”

Being alone with Sylvanas was the easiest thing in the world. There was no tension, and really not all that much awkwardness. Jaina was happy to let her lead in this dance, or to take her own steps when she felt certain of them. But they just talked, mostly. They ate apples and cheese and drank tea from proper cups this time. Jaina proudly conjured her own honey to go with it. She was still only good at creating the usual saccharine mage food, but that sweetness translated well into honey.

Afternoon turned to evening all too fast. The light coming from the single window dimmed so quickly. Jaina would normally leave at this time, heading back to Dalaran after waiting for a few hours. She would try to take her mind off of the disappointment with study or even with a rare attempt at being social. That last one was getting harder, though. She had come to find that it was difficult to socialize with other mages her age when she was now technically considered a superior, and no longer a student.

But there was no disappointment to fight tonight. There was only a growing warmth, little touches, both cautious and casual, and again, that feeling that this was just so normal that the rest of her life was strange in comparison.

No, she would not be missed in Dalaran.

Jaina helped as Sylvanas got the cabin ready for the night ahead. Sylvanas left the fire for her to start, but she stacked the wood. Jaina cleaned out her tea set and left the cheese rind and apple cores for Sylvanas to toss into a little compost pile she'd started out behind the cottage. They worked together like they had been living together for years already.

“Tell me about this book,” Jaina requested as she found herself picking it up off the floor. It was the last thing left to tidy up.

“It’s awful,” Sylvanas answered succinctly. She followed Jaina over and took the book from her, flipping through its pages.

“Then why did you bring it?” Jaina asked, trying not to focus too hard on those nimble fingers as they handled the paper.

“I tried reading it. I was curious. But I couldn't make it through,” Sylvanas confessed. She handed the tome back to Jaina, “I wanted to know what caught your attention about the orcs and their demon magic, but I guess I will leave that study up to you instead. The title translates to ‘Saldolan's Observations on Orcish Ritual’. I hear it's a bit difficult to get a hold of a copy outside of Silvermoon.”

It was extremely difficult. So much so that even Antonidas himself hadn't read it yet. A rare account from an elven magister who was on the front lines of the Second War. It was said to be very detailed. Jaina gave voice to her concerns, even as she held tightly to the book, “I...thank you. Thank you so much, but I couldn't even manage to read the title right. I don't know how much justice I could do to the whole book.”

“With a very patient walking dictionary, you might be able to slog through it,” Sylvanas said, gesturing toward herself.

“If you wouldn't mind. But you said it was awful,” Jaina reminded her.

“Only because I didn't have you there to be excited about it,” Sylvanas told her. She then flopped back onto the bed, completely lacking her usual grace. “I take that back, actually. I would like to be at least a sitting dictionary right now.”

She looked up at Jaina, glowing eyes set in a strange expression, ears mournfully still. Wait. This was an invitation. 

Jaina found herself hesitating again, briefly. Sylvanas wouldn't do anything more without asking first, right? Was she ready for that even? Was that all part of what she had agreed to with the token she now proudly wore on her chest? Did she care otherwise?

Fuck it. Jaina sat down next to her anyway.

Only to find that Sylvanas just wanted to wrap them up together in the quilt. She positioned herself to give Jaina more light from the fire to read by. Or at least that was what it seemed like. By the time they were all settled, Jaina was sitting between her legs, leaning against one shoulder, with the quilt draped around them. She was trying her best to read and ignore her racing heart.

But it was hard. It was harder still when she would ask for help on a word, and Sylvanas answered with the smooth tones of her native tongue husked against Jaina’s ear as she pronounced it for her, then defined it. It was extremely hard when Jaina found that she could read this better than she expected, and when Sylvanas found other ways to amuse herself besides answering questions. She started by putting Jaina's hair into that braid again. She continued with the touch of a single fingertip on the now exposed nape of her neck, trailing down slowly against her back. She nearly killed Jaina when she placed a single soft kiss there, before hanging her head over Jaina’s shoulder and making fun of a passage about Orcish siege weaponry.

And when the fire light became too low for Jaina’s eyes, Sylvanas took over, head still resting on her shoulder, reverberating the smooth sounds of Thalassian through both of their chests as she read aloud. 

Jaina found that she wasn't even listening to the words. She was just existing in each moment, wrapped in Sylvanas and everything she had to offer, wondering what she had done to deserve such a gift. Forget books and pendants and knives. That evening was the greatest gift she had ever received, and it promised many more like it to follow.

Sylvanas stopped when she noticed Jaina beginning to drift off in her arms. She bid her to lay down as she put the book aside on one of the shelves, marking their place with a ribbon built into the spine of the elven binding. Neither of then made any comment this time as Sylvanas slipped into bed beside Jaina, though this time she didn't start apart from her. Jaina reached out for her just as much as she did, and soon enough they were a tangle of limbs and quilt that was somehow immensely comfortable.

A summer rain began to patter against the repaired roof. Sylvanas’ fingers were in her hair again. Her lips placed yet another kiss on Jaina’s forehead. Jaina's hands traced the lines of her arms, cataloging the scars they found along them, wondering silently at their stories.

Jaina could die like this and have no regrets. Well, one regret, really, which was that she fell asleep far too fast to enjoy it for long.

They slept in that morning, though Jaina was quite certain that both of them were playing a game of chicken about who would acknowledge that they were actually awake first. Eventually, Jaina gave in, rolling away and admiring the way Sylvanas’ arms crept after her as she got out of bed. 

But morning called, and with it the needs of the day. Thirst was a particular one. All jokes aside, Jaina made a beeline for the rain barrel just outside the door of the cottage. 

And Sylvanas found her staring at it still several minutes later.

“It did rain last night, right? I wasn't imagining things,” Jainas asked her, briefly looking back at her before going back to examine the barrel.

Sylvanas’ long eyebrows quirked upwards as she answered, “It did. Why?”

“It’s empty,” Jaina told her. “And dry as a bone.”

Sylvanas joined her in looking at the barrel. “Well, there has to be a leak then.”

But there wasn't. Neither of them could find one. Sylvanas insisted still that there had to be a hole somewhere. They had to make due with water from a little mountain stream. It could be worse. And honestly, there weren’t many things in this world that were better than watching Sylvanas shake the cool runoff from her face as she splashed it. Jaina realized she wasn't wearing her usual makeup. The dramatic kohl liner on her eyes would have become a runny mess otherwise. She liked her better without it.

They got back to the cabin with a bucket of stream water, but a sudden realization that the only food they had left for the day were the two apples they hadn't eaten last night. 

“I could just conjure us up some mana biscuits,” Jaina offered.

“I mean no offense to your magic, but those things are so disgustingly sweet. I rather like my teeth and would prefer not to rot them off, so no thank you,” Sylvanas said with a wave of her hand.

“Well, I like your teeth too, so I’ll let that slide. I especially like them when they're smiling at me,” Jaina dared.

She did her best to memorize every little flush of pink, from pointed ear tip to elegant cheekbone, that followed that comment. Jaina was beginning to understand the appeal of such flattery. If she reacted like this every time, then poor Sylvanas was going to be just too fun to tease.

But the blush faded, the elf's eyes narrowed, and her voice husked unfairly so as she responded, “I could show you better uses for them.”

She laughed as Jaina’s cheeks became molten, then turned toward the wall of the cabin. She scrambled halfway up it as if that were a normal thing to do, then reached up into the rafters and pulled down a simple bow and a small quiver of arrows. Of course. Of course she did.

She slung them over herself before climbing back down to give Jaina a quick kiss. “I’ll find us something better to eat. If you are going to offer to help, don't. Hunting is work best done alone. I promise you won't miss me for more than an hour.”

“But I've missed you for weeks now,” Jaina objected, trying her best to pout prettily. “You’re going to make me wait for you again?”

“You will think better of if when you’re eating a decent meal. Also, if you keep looking at me like that, then it's best I take a break out in this cool mountain air, unless you want me to make good on that last threat about my teeth,” Sylvanas warned with a smirk, letting the tip of one of her little fangs poke through her lips.

That certainly shut Jaina up enough for her to slip away.

Needless to say, Jaina opted for more of that cool stream water instead of the hot tea she had been planning on.

But when she went back for a second cup, she found it the bucket was nearly empty. Only a few tiny puddles of water lined just the very bottom of it.

“See,” she said to Sylvanas, even though the elf had long disappeared into the pines. “Now you're not here to tell me I'm not imagining this. How dare you leave?”

Jaina was pretty certain, though, that she did not imagine watching the droplets of water as they began to defy gravity, rolling up the sides of the bucket in a steady stream, then down again to the floor and into the cracks between the floorboards.

Slowly but surely, the rest of the liquid followed in similar fashion until the bucket was empty.

Jaina puzzled over it for a moment, but a memory of days long past stirred the answer up for her--a memory of a little girl who played down by the seashore, of waves that danced true dances, unnatural ones, of friends made of the very tides themselves. 

“I'm on to you,” Jaina said to the floor. “You must be the one that was keeping this place together. And here I wondered why I couldn't trace the source of that energy. You're just shy, and probably thirsty.”

Jaina took up the bucket, grateful that Sylvanas was away so she didn’t have to explain herself. “I'm going to fetch more for you, but I'll need you to show yourself to me. We can chat about why you protect this place, and why you don’t seem to mind us being here.”

One bucket of stream water later and several stasis and attraction runes drawn on the floor in charcoal from the fire, Jaina's trap was complete. Knelt before her work, she quickly breathed life into the runes, setting them aglow with arcane power as the water began to trail up and out of the bucket again. She watched as the water droplets became larger and larger, pooling into puddles, then pulling into shapes. Soon enough, far more water than was in the bucket began to surge out of the floor. It merged together, beginning to form a familiar shape.

“I said that I wanted you to show yourself,” Jaina stated. “But I thought you might do this. Sorry for forcing you out, but I wanted to be sure I knew what you were.”

The last drops of a water elemental pulled up and out of the floor, forming the rest of the creature, which was trying it's best to free itself from the bonds of the stasis runes.

“I just want to talk. I don't want to ask you to leave this place or anything like that. I want to be sure you don't want to hurt me or my...friend. I don't think you do, right?” Jaina asked it. 

She released a bit of the power from the stasis spell in order to allow the elemental to answer. It shook its head no.

“I just wonder what you're doing out here, all alone. Was this your master's house? Someone like me, who could use magic and speak to you?” Jaina questioned.

“Hey! You wouldn't believe what I…belore what are you doing?”

Jaina’s focus was snapped away as she looked toward a wide-eyed Sylvanas, who was standing in the doorway and holding a dead pheasant and a bundle of greens. The power drained from her runes and the elemental broke free, crashing against the floor in a torrent of water, only to seep beneath it, quickly leaving it dry again.

“I was solving a mystery,” Jaina said forlornly as she got up and dusted herself off. “But now I know why this place has been so well-preserved.”

“It's haunted. Great,” Sylvanas observed.

“Guarded is a better word, but it said it wasn't going to hurt us,” Jaina told her.

“What is it?” Sylvanas asked, still looking warily at the floor.

“Just a water elemental. I think it was bound to a mage that must have lived here before Alterac fell. This is sad--I think it’s protecting this place for someone who is never going to return to it. But they are generally good-natured. I don't think we have anything to worry about, save for maybe needing to teach it not to steal all of our water,” Jaina explained.

“And you’re completely fine with this somehow?” Sylvanas wondered.

“I grew up by the sea,” Jaina reminded her. “These guys were some of my first friends. Don’t tell my mother that, though. I promise you it’s fine. I’ll get our little guardian here to open up more later, but for now, I think we’ve developed an understanding.”

Still wary of the floor, Sylvanas finally took a step inside, setting her quarry down on the table. She shrugged out of the bow and quiver, tossing it back up to its hiding spot in the rafters. “Wouldn’t your mother be pleased to know you’re communing with the elements? That seems like a very mage thing to do,” she finally asked.

Jaina looked down at the runes she drew on the floor, or rather their remains. The water had ruined the characters, covering the floor in a thin layer of charcoal dust after it receded. Only a few curves and lines remained. “Magic in Kul Tiras is not like it is here. We have our Tidesages, yes, and they’re very useful, but a Tidesage is not a respectable thing to be. They have mastery over the waters, but at a price. There has always been a darkness about them, to say the least. My mother feared that fate would befall me, when she watched me play in the sea--when it started to shape to my call. That’s why I’m here, really. First in Loredaeron and then in Dalaran. I was sent to learn respectable magic--magic fitting of a young noble lady.”

“And to court Prince Arthas, so I hear,” Sylvanas noted, her smirk finally returning. “Though I can see that isn’t exactly going as planned.”

Jaina shook her head, finally walking over to the table to meet her. “It’s not exactly like that. My parents would be thrilled if such a thing were to happen, but King Terenas doesn’t trust my father. He’s called him a ‘glorified pirate with a title’ more times than I can count.”

“And what about the prince himself?” Sylvanas asked.

“I won’t lie to you and say that we didn’t try it out a few years ago. It’s odd, though, trying to be romantic with someone you grew up with. It was fun, but we were both happy enough moving on and doing other things. I don’t know if I’d do it again. Arthas is a dear friend, but gods he’s so dense sometimes.” Jaina found the words just pouring out of her. 

“But it’s expected of you,” Sylvanas said. “I know what that’s like. All eyes on you, waiting for something to happen that you don’t want.”

“I’ve learned that it’s best to take it a day at time, and cherish the moments when those eyes are looking elsewhere. So if you don’t mind, I’ll enjoy this little secret we have together for now, and worry about the rest of the world later,” Jaina told her as she proved her point by leaning over and kissing the elf. 

That little gasp of surprise against her lips was everything. She let it fuel her courage to run a hand through Sylvanas’ hair, which was every bit as silky as she thought it would be. She even dared to run a finger along the lobe of her long ear. That got her another gasp, but also a hand on her wrist that gently guided her away. 

“I don’t quite think you’re ready for what will happen if you keep doing that, little mage,” Sylvanas said, warning her, but with a smile. She instead pulled her back in and leaned their foreheads together. “Now behave, and let me show you I’m no foolish prince.”

Jaina found it harder and harder not to give in to the constant draw she felt toward Sylvanas, but she did her best to keep things chaste for the rest of the day. It passed so quickly, though. Sylvanas plucked the pheasant outside, setting aside some choice feathers for both fletching and decoration. She explained her reasons for each, and Jaina just listened. They both cut up the greens she’d gathered along with the bird, and cleaned them before throwing them into a pot with the pheasant, and mercifully, some salt that Sylvanas had thought to bring. Jaina beseeched their elemental not to disturb the water that she added to the stew, and it seemed to listen. 

They talked. They kissed. They swept up the mess Jaina had made of the floor with makeshift brooms made from pine branches. They ate the pheasant stew. They talked again. Night dared to approach once more, so they went back to the bed and back to the farce that was pretending to read the book together. Really, it was just an excuse to be wrapped in each other, to test places they could touch, how it felt to be pressed against one another this way or that. 

When Jaina yawned for the third time that night, Sylvanas said, “I have to go in the morning. I need to make it look like I’m coming back from hunting.”

“I know,” Jaina lamented. “I don’t even have an excuse to be gone. I’m sure someone has noticed that I’m missing. I should have gone back the first night, but I still don’t want to leave.”

“I know,” Sylvanas echoed.

\---

The next morning, standing in her room in Dalaran, Jaina thought she might finally understand what people meant when they spoke of heartache. Her chest was heavy, and she was keenly aware of how cold and empty this room was without a certain snarky elf wrapped around her. 

But she went about her normal routine anyway, falling back into the habits of Dalaran Jaina again--becoming a person she was now very aware she was only pretending to be. She brushed her hair out of the elven braid. She washed the scent of pine and woodsmoke off of her skin. She dressed to cover the golden feather on her throat, but didn’t dare take it off. No, she wouldn’t, because she was going to see Sylvanas again. A week from then, they’d managed to arrange another escape together. Only a few hours, but it would have to be enough. She carried that hope close to her heart, just below the pendant that marked her as belonging to the Ranger General.

And she’d just barely finished buttoning the robe to cover both of them when an overly enthusiastic knock rattled her door.

“Come in,” Jaina said, thinking it was a worried Modera checking on her.

Instead, Prince Kael’thas burst into her room, strangely absent of his usual group of lackeys. “Ah, so you were here all along. I’ve been looking for you since yesterday, Lady Proudmoore. You’re a hard woman to find these days.”

Jaina tried her best to suppress a grimace. Well, this was the last thing she was expecting. “I’ve uh, not been feeling well the last few days,” Jaina told him, quickly thinking of an excuse. “Much better this morning, though.”

“A shame,” Kael’thas said. “You should have called upon me. I would have sent a priest along to see to your ills.”

“Oh it’s fine. I’m fine. I promise. May I ask why you were looking for me?” Jaina questioned. 

“Well,” Kael’thas started, clicking his tongue at the end of the word, then offering her an odd grin. “I’ve been very impressed with you lately, as I hope I’ve made well known. I find you intriguing, Lady Proudmoore. Very intriguing.”

Oh Tides. Tides no.

Kael’thas made a show of trying to lean casually against the doorframe. Sylvanas had perfected this move, but on the elven prince, it looked ridiculous. He was half-hovering above it, thanks to his ridiculously large pauldrons. The square cut of his robes made him look like a stack of mismatched crates that was about to fall over, but with an elf head on top of them that was trying its best to look dashing.

He pulled a glinting bauble from his pocket and held it out to Jaina. A golden ring, a massive thing with more metal than sense, that would be difficult to fit on anyone’s finger, much less a woman’s. It curved into the shape of a phoenix, the emblem of house Sunstrider, which surrounded a huge square cut emerald. 

Fuck. 

“Do you know what this is?” he asked.

Jaina could only shake her head. Playing dumb was her best option. It had to be. 

“I didn’t expect that you would. It’s a tradition amongst my people to express our interest in potential partners by exchanging tokens like this one. Like I was saying, Lady Proudmoore, you intrigue me. And it’s not just your brilliant mind that has captured my attention,” Kael’thas went on.

Fucking hell. 

“So, if you think you might be interested in me, I would ask that you consider accepting this ring, and wearing it,” he said and all but handed it to her.

“I uh...that is...I…” Jaina tried to come up with her second excuse of the morning, but this was not as easy as the first. It wasn’t even in the same realm as the first. 

“I understand this is a lot, but I would ask you to think about it, at the very least. I have so much to offer you,” Kael’thas prodded.

“Arthas,” she finally said, catching on to the conversation she’d had with Sylvanas before. “I um, I’m very flattered, but I am being courted by Prince Arthas already.”

Kael’thas withdrew the ring a little. His ears flattened back against his skull. “I don’t think it could be called courting if he never sees you. I was told you two weren’t an item.”

“It’s...it’s complicated,” Jaina told him. Again, not entirely a lie. “We both decided it as more important to pursue our training, me with the Kirin Tor, him with the Silver Hand. But, that doesn’t mean--”

Kael’thas sighed, and thankfully slipped the ring back into his pocket and stood like a normal person again. “You’ve said enough, Lady Proudmoore. I wouldn’t intrude upon your existing courtship. But should you change your mind, I would ask you to consider me.”

\---

“He did what?” Sylvanas snorted, looking up from the bag of food that Jaina had brought with her this time.

“He tried to give me his token, or whatever you call this process,” Jaina recounted. “I said no. I told him I was still seeing Arthas.”

Sylvanas erupted into a bout of extremely undignified laughter that was most certainly not befitting of a Ranger General. As she began to calm down, she pulled Jaina into a tight embrace, and kissed her as she said, “You brilliant little thing. At least you didn’t have to use that knife I gave you.”

“I can’t tell you that I didn’t think about it for a moment or two there,” Jaina told her, enjoying the way the last vestiges of Sylvanas’ laughter shook through her own body. “He kept going on about what he could offer me, like it was a business deal.”

“Marriages often are to people of his station, and your own for that matter,” Sylvanas reminded her, still not making any move to let her go.

“Wait...this isn’t...is it…”Jaina stammered, her hand flying to the pendant on her neck. 

“Oh! No! No, no, no!” Sylvanas said, ears flying high and to the side with embarrassment. “No. It’s. I mean. It’s not. It’s more casual. It’s just dating, but you know, the start of that process. Everything has to start somewhere, you know?”

“You’re rambling and it’s adorable,” Jaina said, relaxing again into Sylvanas’ arms. “You know I would much rather be engaged to you than to him, right? Or any other prince I’ve yet to meet so far.”

Sylvanas smiled and kissed her again. “But just think of what I can offer you? I’ve killed so many small animals for you already, and an ogre. And I have a nosy sister that thinks my interest in you is a scandal. Oh yes, and a position which causes me to be away for far too long, scheming up ways to defend my kingdom from filthy forest trolls.”

Jaina returned it with another kiss of her own, lingering a little too long until she broke off to say, “I’ll take all of that I can get, thanks. What is Vereesa’s problem anyway?”

“You’re not the only one who has other people planning their love life. So tell me, does he still use the phoenix ring then?” Sylvanas asked.

“Wait...you and Kael’thas? But you can’t stand him!” Jaina protested.

“But I’m the Ranger General, and the best match for him. This was years ago, though, many years ago, when I was just a Farstrider, and I didn’t accept it then either,” Sylvanas told her. “Vereesa still thinks I’m crazy for refusing him. I used to tell her she could have him, and now look at her--married to a human. She has no grounds for recourse anymore. But she does have a point. This isn’t wise for either of us, politically.”

“Then you’ll remain my best kept secret,” Jaina told her. 

“We can just keep this between you, myself, and Sponge,” Sylvanas said.

“Sponge?”

“I thought it was a good name. When I came alone the other night to bring some things, he’d drained the rain barrel again,” Sylvanas reported. “Thirsty thing.”

“That’s hardly a regal name for an elemental,” Jaina objected. 

“A regal elemental wouldn’t soak up every bit of moisture in this house when our backs are turned,” Sylvanas countered.

Jaina laughed her response, and went to pull away to start getting the food unpacked, but Sylvanas held fast to her. 

“I will offer you all that I can, Jaina,” Sylvanas told her, bringing a possessive hand up to trace her jawline. “And all that you will have of me. I know that we’re still getting to know one another, but that is what that token means to me.” She drew her hand slowly down Jaina’s neck, languishing along her collar bones before she came to rest over the pendant.

All the princes she could think of, all the fairy tales that were told her when she was that little girl that was getting too close to the water--none of them compared to this feeling. This was what it was really like to be swept off one’s feet. And all she could do was lean further into Sylvanas to let her know she felt the same way. 

Eventually, the hand on her chest ghosted up to her shoulder, crawling along her arm before it took her own hand in its bow-calloused grip. “Dance with me,” Sylvanas all but purred into her ear. 

That low rumble turned into a hum--another one of her constant stream of songs. Sylvanas began to sweep Jaina across the floor of the cottage, bidding her to follow along in big, dramatic steps as they spun around what little empty space there was between the furniture. All the while, Sylvanas’ humming grew louder, and more confident, eventually bursting into words. Thalassian, of course, though Jaina could mostly follow it now. She even started catching on to the steps of the dance.

The song was about two birds, flying away for the winter, only to find one another again amongst the flowers of springtime. It had an ancient feel to it, simple, but catchy, a tune that had no doubt been sung for thousands of years. It marked the perfect beat of a quick, breathless dance. 

Jaina found herself using what little breath she had left to laugh as they spun and hit the bed post, then overturned one of the mismatched chairs. Sylvanas laughed with her, glowing eyes alight with a gentle shine that Jaina could have sworn was new, or at least new to her.

\---

“I can feel you staring a hole in me, Jaina. Is there anything I can help you with?” Rhonin finally asked. 

Damn. She had tried her best to be subtle. Well, correction on that. She had been trying her best for weeks now. But she’d finally seen it this time. Rhonin wore a bracelet that was often hidden by the sleeves of his robes, but the summer’s heat had finally come to the spires of Dalaran, and he’d opted to wear a simple tunic instead that day, with the sleeves pushed up. 

Yes, it was definitely elven. A broad band of fine silver, tooled with a beautiful pattern of swirling filigree, and beset with several red gemstones. It had to be Vereesa’s token.

“Sorry, I just didn’t think you the type to wear jewelry,” she responded, coming to sit next to him in the library where she had kept not at all purposely bumping into him. 

Rhonin shook his wrist, spinning the bracelet at little. “I’m not, but this is something a little different. A custom of my wife’s people.”

“Like an engagement ring, then?” Jaina asked, knowing she was wrong, but trying to start the conversation.

“Not really, but sort of,” he explained. “It’s to mark me off limits I guess, to tell everyone that I’m hers. I understand that they have to make whatever it is themselves. Would you believe that? I can’t see Vereesa slaving over a jeweler's kit to make something like this, could you?”

Jaina had to stop herself from reaching up to her neck. Sylvanas had made this? She wanted to touch the pendant again so badly, but restrained herself. Instead, she kept him talking, “Really? She did a beautiful job.”

Rhonin smiled and admired the bracelet again. “She did. I think it’s an important thing for them, to make whatever it is they want to give out look nice. I suppose that makes sense. It’s a significant gift, so it ought to look the part.”

Jaina nodded, making a show of admiring the bracelet again. 

“I had to give her something back, or at least I was told that’s the appropriate thing to do,” Rhonin went on. “So I gave her an engagement ring. It wasn’t until later that I found out that wasn’t right, but she didn’t seem to mind. And now here we are.”

“I guess then it sort of means whatever degree of affection the giver wants it to?” Jaina questioned.

Rhonin chuckled. “I suppose you’re right, but I’m no elf. I’m just luck enough to have been picked by one.”

\---

The weeks went by too slowly in Dalaran, and too quickly in Alterac. Jaina sped the time she spent without Sylvanas up as best as she could, both with working on others’ projects and with private study. That private study was focused mostly on gaining the trust of the water elemental that still kept himself mostly under the floor of the cottage, but would occasionally make himself known in little ways. He was leaving puddles on the floor now, or dripping from the ceiling, just trying to be annoyingly present, but only when Jaina was there alone. 

Now that he was developing a bit of a personality, and Sylvanas had given him a name, it was hard not to personify him a bit. So Sponge became a good distraction. She’d taken to offering him bits of conjured ice lately, leaving them behind when she left the cottage. He seemed particularly attracted to them, feeding off both the water and the magic in them. 

One morning, she decided she would try to see if she could lure him out with some. She had a few hours to kill between meetings. It was worth a try. She spent them at the cottage, conjuring up a trail of ice crystals, then waiting to see if Sponge would follow them.

Just as she was shaping the last of the crystals, the creak of the door hinges alerted her to a presence that was decidedly not of the liquid variety. Boots scuffed. A musical laugh followed. 

“What are you doing this time, my crazy little mage?”

Jaina turned to find Sylvanas, still clad in an armorless version of her ranger uniform, holding a bouquet of mountain wildflowers. 

A Sylvanas that was not supposed to be able to come to the cottage for another three days.

Ice crystals forgotten, Jaina ran over to her. She crashed into her, nearly crushing the flowers between them. Sylvanas laughed again as Jaina peppered her with kisses. It had been too long since they’d been able to meet. And by too long, she meant just over a week, but even just one day without Sylvanas was getting to be difficult to get through. 

“I only have a few more minutes to stay, but I thought I might be able to catch you,” Sylvanas told her. 

“You’ve missed me that much, huh?” Jaina asked as she nipped at the elf’s jawline.

“More than I can say,” Sylvanas breathed. She set the bouquet down on the table, careful not to put too much space between her and Jaina in the process. Anymore, she always seemed to have a hand on her whenever she could during their visits. Not that Jaina minded, not at all.

When Jaina found her lips again, she found something entirely different from their usual kisses. It was hot and heavy and just...needy. Way more fang and tongue than she had bargained for. But she wasn’t about to complain. Usually Jaina was the one to get too carried away. What had been on the Ranger General’s mind that day, that had made her need to find her and do this?

Jaina really, really wanted to know. 

Luckily, Sylvanas felt like sharing. Her lips still hovered above Jaina’s as she spoke, brushing them just slightly with every other syllable. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know what it is, but I think you’ve put a spell on me.”

“Damn, you’ve seen right through me,” Jaina played along.

A tongue ran across her lips, dragging so slowly and so softly. Sylvanas kissed her way to the corner of Jaina’s mouth, then down onto her neck. She stopped only to graze her teeth against that skin, just hinting at what she might do otherwise, but not daring to leave a mark on her. Her hands. Gods those hands. They roamed places they usually only ghosted over, but this time, made themselves very known. Sylvanas kneaded her back in a strong grip. If it weren’t for the heavy leather gloves of her uniform, Jaina was pretty certain she would have more than felt her nails. She drew her even closer, pressing every inch of Jaina against her that she could. Still, it never seemed enough. 

Only when Sylvanas had her pinned against the cabin wall was she satisfied. Her hands continued their assault, moving ever dangerously downwards, leaving Jaina unsure of what to do besides just letting this happen and loving it. She’d worn leggings that day instead of a skirt, and was forever grateful for that fact, as Sylvanas brushed along the curve of her backside, her leather-clad palms lingering over Jaina’s thighs before parting them just slightly.

This was not something she thought she would be getting from the elf that day. Sylvanas had been very adamant that she wanted to take things slowly. A part of Jaina worried that she might see her as too young, too fragile and inexperienced for anything steamier than a lingering kiss. Well, clearly, if she had ever felt that way, Sylvanas had since changed her mind.

Sylvanas trailed two fingers up the inseam of Jaina’s leggings, so light and so slow that it was torturous. She kept her lips captured, and Jaina could hear the echo of her own short breaths against Sylvanas’ teeth.

Those fingers stopped just short of the apex of her thighs. Sylvanas pulled away with a grin. “Well now,” she said. “Look at the time. I have to run. I’m no magistrix, but let’s see if my spell works on you as well as yours has on me.”

“Don’t you dare leave,” Jaina protested, trying to reach for her hand and put it back where it belonged.

But Sylvanas was too fast. She had already tapped the return rune on her charm, and was fading out with a little wave.

When Jaina recovered herself enough to look around again, she noticed that the ice was gone. All of it. 

“Please don’t tell me you were watching that,” Jaina said.

A drip of water splashing directly onto her nose was her answer.

\---  
The next three days were the longest of her entire life. Jaina spent most of them daydreaming or worrying, or a combination of the two. Such thoughts lead her nowhere, save for that she knew she wanted more, but she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

But it lead her coming to the cabin far too early, hours before the time she had agreed to meet Sylvanas there. She completed the usual chores in the first hour. She swept. She dusted. She made sure there was enough wood for a fire or two. She fetched water for Sponge, and then for her and Sylvanas. She’d managed to teach the elemental that the first bucket was always for him, but that he had to leave the others alone. He still drank up the contents of the rain barrel, but they were working on that.

Then she just started looking for other things to do. Anything to distract her from the anxious need to see Sylvanas again, to have her explain, or just to take whatever she wanted to give. All of it. Gods, just all of it.

She took to wiping down the shelves, starting with the mantle. She’d put Sylvanas’ wildflowers from before in a vase there, and was pleased to see them still blooming, not to mention full of fresh water. 

“I suppose you’re good for something else besides snooping on us,” she said to Sponge, who was hiding, as usual.

Jaina picked up the vase to wipe down the wood beneath it, only to find it scarred. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see what marred the otherwise perfect beam of timber. It wasn’t a knot, but rather a little carving, worn and faded by the years. A heart, with two initials. The first was a T, definitely. The second was maybe an A? Or was it an H? It was hard to tell.

“Were they your masters?” Jaina asked as she traced the lines. 

A drip on her head was becoming the universal sign for yes. 

“Lovers then,” Jaina concluded. “Do we remind you of them?”

This time the drip landed on her ear. 

“Is that what we are?” she asked, this time of herself. 

Sponge knew it wasn’t his question to answer and kept his droplets to himself.

“Do me a favor if you can,” Jaina asked of him. “Just...let us have some privacy, maybe. If we need it. I don’t know. I’m sure your masters asked the same of you. Please?”

The cabin was spotless hours later. Jaina had even taken some time to give herself a bit of a bath. She figured that would be appreciated. 

Tides. Fucking...just...Tides.

She tried her best to look casual, just sitting on the bed, reading the book that she still hadn’t managed to properly absorb any of the information from, despite the ribbon marker being halfway through it--the rare, valuable book that was extremely relevant to her professional interests. Yeah, that one.

It was everything she could do not to just jump up and pull Sylvanas down on top of her when she finally walked through the door.

It was so unfair. She was beautiful. Her hair was loose and free, streaming down past her shoulders in waves of silvery blonde. Her attire was simple, as it usually was when she came to visit. Of course she had opted for a sleeveless shirt that day, that warm summer day, which expertly showed off the toned muscle of her archer’s arms. She held a bottle of wine this time, and that damn grin again.

“I’m not late, am I?” Sylvanas asked as she set the bottle down. 

It was mid-afternoon. Exactly when they’d agreed to meet. Sylvanas didn’t need to know that Jaina had been there since just after sunrise. She certainly did not. 

“No, I just...I just got here a little early,” Jaina tried her best to lie. 

But seeing her again, tracing the smooth curves and hard lines of her figure as she stood just a few feet away, it set fire to those thoughts yet again. Those hands. Those lips. They were only just that far away. She wanted them so much, but she didn’t want to ruin this.

Sylvanas’ ears flicked, and her eyes took on a look of concern. “Is something wrong?”

“I...no…” Jaina said. She got up, tossing the book aside unceremoniously, again, and went to Sylvanas. She reached out for her hand. “I just...really wanted to see you.”

Sylvanas laughed, then slid the hand she wasn’t holding around Jaina, drawing her in again. “Then I see my spell has worked.”

“You have no idea,” Jaina sighed, grateful that she hadn’t forgotten the events of the other day.

“Hmm,” Sylvanas hummed, leaning in to hover near Jaina’s ear. “Then that’s something you would like to continue?”

“More than anything,” Jaina found herself breathing against that gorgeously soft hair.

“Are you quite certain about that?” Sylvanas asked, even as she let go of Jaina’s hand and wrapped her up in both of those strong arms. “I don’t claim to know too much of human traditions, but I know they tend be more...prudish...than ours.”

“A terrible misconception, really,” Jaina told her, daring to brush a brief kiss against her neck. “We’re probably just as filthy as any elf. We just hide it well.”

“What would you know of that, hmm?” Sylvanas wondered. Her hands fell to Jaina’s hips, and gently pulled them closer to her.

“Enough for you not to be too worried about it,” Jaina told her. “So please, just…”

Jaina had worn her leggings again. She was rewarded for that foresight with a gentle squeeze. “Just what?” Sylvanas asked.

“Stop teasing me,” Jaina breathed against her neck. “I can handle whatever you want to do, wherever you want to take me.”

“And here I’d planned to be romantic about it,” Sylvanas chuckled. “I brought wine and everything.” Her hands lingered on the backs of Jaina’s thighs, stopping there, touching her just lightly enough for her to feel the heat of her palms, but not enough. Never enough.

“What do I need to say?” Jaina whined. “Do you want me to beg?”

“You already said it,” Sylvanas told her, leaning in for a kiss. “A long, drawn out, and adorable yes, but a yes all the same.”

If their last kiss had been hot, then this one was molten. Sylvanas captured her in every way--mouth, teeth, tongue and hands. But more than just that. Rough, but gentle. Soft, but knowing. And finally, blessedly, when those hands found their way under her shirt, just the right amount of all of those things. Calloused fingers counted along her ribs. Knuckles just barely grazed the underside of her breasts. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Sylvanas explored the expanse of her stomach, reveling in the little twitches it stirred from her as she found softer spots where Jaina was ticklish.

“Let’s do this properly, then,” Sylvanas rasped as she let her breathe. “On the bed.”

Jaina had never heard a more beautiful phrase in her life. She tried to break free to comply, but Sylvanas wasn’t having it. Instead, she bent down, hooked an arm around her knees and lifted Jaina up into a bridal carry, just as she had months ago, when they first met, but yet very differently. Very, very differently.

If Jaina had been questioning the nature of love and whether or not that applied to her relationship with Sylvanas before, then it was at that moment that she decided, yes, she was probably in love this this woman. Maybe. Definitely, actually.

Sylvanas carried her the few feet to the bed, and languidly laid her down on the sheets. Not to be outdone, Jaina didn’t let her stand back up, and pulled her down on top of her. Sylvanas’ keen ranger balance couldn’t even save her then, not from a sneak attack like that, and she crashed into Jaina, smacking their foreheads together enough to draw a cry of surprise and maybe a little pain from the elf.

But it soon turned into a laugh, and Jaina couldn’t help but join in, even as she rubbed her own forehead. Satisfied that no lasting mark had been made by the impact, she instead moved that hand to Sylvanas face, guiding her attention back to herself. “I want you so much right now. Please don’t doubt that,” Jaina told her.

“I don’t. Not now,” Sylvanas said as she kissed her again.

Jaina was suddenly made very aware that one of Sylvanas’ thighs had landed between hers. The elf propped herself up to get better leverage, but hand managed to bring her knee up against Jaina in the process. A shaking sigh spilled from her lips into Sylvanas’. 

She had fooled around before. With Arthas. So that wasn’t entirely a lie. Like everything else about those days when they tried out the romance that everyone wanted them to have, in the back corridors and antechambers of Lordaeron’s court, it was fun, but it had never felt like this. There had never been this aching need--this want that made her both breathless and wordless. 

No, this was so different, so right.

“Someone’s eager,” Sylvanas whispered against her. 

“I’ve been eager since the last time you left me like this,” Jaina confessed as she found her words again. “Please, whatever you do, do not leave again.”

“I’ll have to eventually,” Sylvanas reminded her as she slipped under her shirt again. “But not until tomorrow. I’m all yours until then. All night.”

And then her words were gone again. Jaina could only offer another shaky breath in response as Sylvanas’ lips moved down her chest, placing a kiss on her feather pendant before moving down to nip at the edge of Jaina’s blouse. Without any further verbal teasing, she slipped her hands back out and found the buttons that held it closed. She took her time undoing them, placing a kiss on each bit of new skin that every button exposed. 

By the time she reached the last one, Jaina’s back was arching off the mattress, as if her body was trying to do its best to help by bringing the buttons closer to Sylvanas’ fingers. 

Not to be rushed, Sylvanas took her time sliding the silky material of the shirt off of Jaina’s arms. She traced a line from her collar bones, down between the middle of her breasts, stopping to hook on the front clasp of her bra. Her nice, lacey bra. The good one. You know. The one that she never wore otherwise. That one.

With expert skill, Sylvanas slipped the clasp and pushed the garment aside. She paid no attention to what she’d uncovered for a moment, instead kissing Jaina again. Gently. Softly. Maybe seeking assurance that what she was doing was still okay. Jaina gave it to her readily, kissing back hard.

Only then did Sylvanas move back down, trailing her lips across Jaina’s chest until they finally placed the lightest of kisses on her breasts. First one, then the other. Jaina couldn’t help but open her eyes and watch what was happening. It was probably one of the most spectacular things she’d ever seen.

“Beautiful,” Sylvanas said, echoing that thought as she looked back up at Jaina. 

“Not fair now,” Jaina managed to protest, even as her hips were beginning to move on their own.

Sylvanas gave her breasts just a little bit more attention before she sat up a little. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, then deftly slipped her own shirt off over her head.

She hadn’t been wearing a bra underneath it. That somehow escaped Jaina’s notice earlier. She’d already seen plenty of that skin in their adventures together, but now, absent anything but the wooden pendant and it’s glowing runes, Jaina could fully admire the tapestry of smooth skin and pale scars. Here, a slash against her ribs. There, a dot that might have been an arrow wound on her shoulder. She did her best to catalog those scars, to remember to, one day, when she had her wits about her, ask for their stories. To know this woman. To know everything that had made her and brought her there. To make herself a part of her, to be another scar on her skin.

Jaina whined when she bent back down to kiss her again. 

Sylvanas laughed against her. “I promise you’ll have plenty of time to admire me later, if you want to. We have more important things to attend to now.”

Like the way that warm skin felt against her own, melding with it, dragging against it. Gods. Ever nerve in from her waistband to the top of her head was alight, just trying desperately to relay that feeling. 

The rest of her was hardly ready for Sylvanas’ hand to slip just under that waistband to graze her hip bone. 

A moan, an actual moan, escaped Jaina’s lips. 

“Let’s get these off of you,” Sylvanas purred against her ear. 

All Jaina could think to do was let her hips arch upwards as far as they wanted to. It was enough for Sylvanas to slide the leggings down and of her. Mercifully. 

If the touch of her gloved hand through that material had been too much before, then the way she slid a single fingertip from hip to knee was excruciatingly good. Sylvanas chuckled as more sounds came unbidden from Jaina’s throat. 

“And yes, I’ll make it fair,” she said. 

Somehow, she kept a hand on her the entire time as she shimmied out of her own trousers. This one pinned Jaina’s hips to the bed, letting her writhe there, but not too much. Only when Sylvanas laid back down on top of her, Jaina could feel that things were now unfair yet again. She still had her panties on. Sylvanas did not.

She took her time, as she had with everything, rectifying that. She slid them down Jaina’s legs inch by inch, all the while seeming to try to distract her. A little bite on her neck this time. A finger tracing the outline of her nipple after that. A tongue flicking against the other one as the garment made its way over her knees. 

“Just…” Jaina found herself starting to beg. So much for that.

“Shh,” Sylvanas said, sitting back again as she finally pulled them all the way off. “Patience. I’ve been thinking about doing this to you for weeks now. Let me have my fun.”

Again she traced a line down Jaina’s body, this time with a finger starting at her lips, then passing down the center of her, diverting around her belly button, and finally stopping where her legs met. Jaina tried to press against it, desperately trying to get the friction her body craved, but Sylvanas’ touch was feather light and infuriatingly so.

“I’ve wanted you too,” she told Jaina as she added more fingers, just hovering them over her pubic bone. “I can see now that I had nothing to worry about. You really are just gorgeous like this. I’m going to need to find more excuses to get away, aren’t I?”

“Sylvanas,” Jaina breathed, arching again to try to meet her touch. “Please.”

“Mmm, if you insist,” Sylvanas said. She finally relented, dropping her palm to rub against her. 

Sparks shot through Jaina at that touch, yet she still needed more. “Please...just…”

“I know,” Sylvanas told her, finally slipping two fingers where she needed them, and moving them slowly. Too slowly. 

But just slowly enough. Jaina would never have done this to herself, but it was so perfect, and so good. Sylvanas made her work for each trust, each circling against her most sensitive part. All the while she worshipped her with kisses, but kept her hand’s pace steady and slow.

Even so, it hardly lasted long. Jaina was so worked up already. She felt warmth pool and coil up in her belly. Her limbs began to shake. Every breath was punctuated by sounds she didn’t know she was capable of making. She’d done this before. Orgasm wasn’t a new concept to her. But someone else being there was. And it feeling like this, this intense? That was definitely new.

Sylvanas didn’t rush her to it. She kept building it up, slowly. Kissing her, watching her with those glowing eyes. “You’re perfect,” she whispered. “You can let go with me. It’s all right.”

And gods she did. With hoarse little cry, Jaina fell apart under Sylvanas’ gentle touch. She just shook and felt and melted into the sheets at the same time. And Sylvanas helped her ride it out, keeping her hand soft, but present. Just enough, until it was too much, and she finally pulled away. She snaked up against Jaina’s side, curling there next to her, and gently ran a hand through her hair.

“Well,” she asked after letting Jaina catch her breath for a moment or two, “Was I worth the wait?”

“Yes,” was all Jaina could think to answer. “Fucking Tides, yes.”

Sylvanas laughed, kissing her cheek as she did. 

Jaina tried to regain control over her limbs, desperately wanting to roll over and see the woman that had just shattered her world. She managed it, shakily still, and found a smug grin on Sylvanas face.

“You know what you did,” she said as she kissed it away.

“Oh I do,” Sylvanas assured her. “And it was amazing.”

“I don’t think anything I can do to you will compare,” Jaina said, even as she starting moving to catalog that map of scars with her own hands.

“I trust you’ll find that’s not the case,” Sylvanas told her. “You could just let me have you again and it would be enough for me.”

“Not for me,” Jaina told her. She pushed at the elf’s shoulder, bidding her to lay flat. 

The mischievous little smile that Sylvanas gave her in return was worth more than any amount of gold she’d ever seen in her life.

Still a little unsteady, Jaina managed to straddle her. While she certainly had never been with another woman before, she knew that she would have to try her best to repay Sylvanas for what she’d just done. Even as she had a nervous moment, Sylvanas’ body corrected her as the elf’s hips rolled beneath her. She was just as eager as Jaina had been.

Well, if that wasn’t a sight. Jaina was still for a moment, just trying her best to capture the image of the Ranger General’s strong body writhing beneath her, wanting her.

Jaina did her best to try to emulate the touches that had worked so well on her. Sylvanas seemed to like it. And gods, was it fun. Everything about her was so beautiful, from the silk of her hair, to the warm and sensitive skin of her ears, to the hardness of her muscled shoulders, to the surprising softness of her breasts. And she wanted her. She wanted Jaina. This beautiful creature was aching for her touch. 

All the magic in the world wouldn’t have made her feel so powerful as she did in that moment, when she finally touched her as she wanted to be touched. A string of muttered Thalassian followed as Jaina slowly circled her center. She was so wet. 

She just did what she knew she liked, what she’d done more than a few times in those three days of waiting. She kept a rhythm of gentle circles. Thankfully, elven physiology was not at all different from her own in that department. Soon enough, she felt Sylvanas’ thighs shaking under her own. She watched as those graceful hands that had being trying to pull Jaina back down to her began to reach out with more desperation and no grace at all.

“Don’t stop,” Sylvanas pleaded. “Just...there...right there…”

Jaina did as she was told, and watched in wonder as Sylvanas coiled up like a spring, then released with a long, low moan. Her eyes were closed. Her cheeks and ears were red. She was so beautiful, and she was Jaina’s. 

But the most beautiful thing was when those eyes opened, and found her again. They look they gave her, the soft glow of bluish grey, it spoke of a feeling even warmer than the afterglow that enveloped them. Love was a strong word. Maybe a little too strong, but Jaina would venture to guess that’s what it was.

At least that’s what she hoped it was.

\---

For most of her life, Jaina had considered Dalaran to be a place of wonder. Ever since she’d learned of its existence, as a magical, ancient place of learning, she had wanted to visit it. Living there had been a dream, the a goal.

And now, the violet city was starting to feel like a prison. 

Jaina hated that she had to bathe and dress. She didn’t want to wash the smell of Sylvanas off of her, fearing that the memory of their night together would somehow wash off with it. Thankfully, it did not. Regrettably, it would have to last her another week.

But she went on. She attended Antonidas for the day, discussing a newfound interest that he’d suddenly gained in the now deceased Guardian Medivh. She supposed that it made sense, as the man had been the one to help the Orcs cross over into this world. The green skinned brutes had always been a fascination of the Archmage’s. 

She then went on to draft a letter for Antonidas to Medivh’s old apprentice, Khadgar, to invite him to a meeting. The only problem with that was that no one knew where Khadgar was these days, but she would leave that up to the couriers to deal with.

Evening came, and with it the idea that her bed would be lonely tonight. That she would have to sleep piled in pillows and pretend that they were shaped like the elf she’d rather be laying beside. But those pillows certainly couldn’t do for her what Sylvanas could. Not now. 

As she walked the halls of the Violet Citadel, her thoughts lingering on the memories of her new lover’s touch, a familiar voice stirred her from such reverie all too quickly.

“Jaina! Look at you! How is my favorite agent of the Kirin Tor, huh?” It boomed and echoed through the corridor.

“Arthas? What are you doing here?”


End file.
